The Fall
by NicoleKrystina
Summary: Angels AU. Oliver and Felicity are separated after each angel must choose between heaven and hell. They meet over the course of History, and upon each new meeting their relationship grows. Time will tell if their relationship will survive the strain under which their allegiances put them.


I'm back with a new story! Once again, I don't own any of the characters, and I hope you enjoy.

 _After_

They'd been battling each other for centuries.

It was usually every hundred years or so that they clashed, coincidentally- or perhaps not so coincidentally- managing to be in the same place at the same time, dueling for the same soul. It had been happening since the Fall, when the angels had divided their loyalties between the Almighty and Lucifer.

Felicity had loved him since before, back when they were both on the same side. He had been an angel once, and she had almost loved him. Then she had lost him.

I.

 _Before the Fall_

"Felicity, don't you want to fall in love?" Sara Lance exclaimed as they waited impatiently for the Almighty's announcement. "If you don't put your wings out there, you'll never find someone!"

Felicity Smoak sighed, having long ago tired of her best friend's tirades on the merits of flashing her wings to every man she met.

"I want my first time to be special. I don't want just anyone to be the first to…you know… feel them. I want to be sure," Felicity murmured, running her fingers through her tousled blonde hair.

"Well, I sincerely hope you find that someone fast. You've certainly waited long enough. Believe me, once you go winging you never go back. The connection that Nyssa and I have is like nothing I've felt before," Sara added, squeezing Felicity's knee in encouraging sympathy.

Sara and her lover, Nyssa Al Ghul, had begun their relationship about a century prior to their current conversation, and Sara never stopped describing how beautiful her love's wings were.

Felicity envied them, their openness. No one save her parents and Sara had even seen her wings before, let alone touched them. She longed for that closeness, the devotion that she had been sorely deprived of for the entirety of her existence.

Every angel's wings were different. The glint of colour in the vertebrae of the feathers pulsed, differentiating the angel's individual soul from another's so that they could be identified when in human form. An angel's wings were the seat of their being, the purest expression of their individuality, and were therefore hidden away from the general public's eyes, discreetly tucked away beneath the skin. To touch another's wings was more intimate than "I love you", an act so sacred that only a select few would ever touch an angel's wings over the course of a millennium.

In her many centuries of being an angel, Felicity Smoak had never seen a boy's wings. She had never felt the strip of velvet smooth skin on either side of a man's spine that connected the skin to each feathered appendage, had never experienced the thrum of life and power beneath her fingertips as she grazed her digits over the span of feathers.

Of course she had had flings, mild flirtations. They weren't, however, anything so serious that she had felt justified in baring her opalescent, rose gold wings to the hands of another. No, she had never felt that.

Her mother had told her when she was young that one could identify their soulmate by brushing one's own wings with another's. Felicity had asked how she would know for sure that the person was her twin flame, and her mother had assured her that she would just know. It was primal, instinctive.

She had said that after the initial connection was made, one would know instantly when their soulmate was near, because their wings would automatically extend towards them. In times of distress or emotional upheaval, the reaction would intensify immensely.

Felicity had laughed, because of course it seemed like it was such an easy process.

Nevertheless, for century after century, Felicity had wandered the human world collecting souls so that they may be initiated into Heaven, wondering. Did her soulmate even exist? Was she wasting her time?

She didn't know.

Now, with Sara chattering in her ear about the beauties of married life, Felicity wished that she could melt into the floor and disappear. She would rather dissolve into a misty cloud than admit that she longed for an eternal companion more so than she had ever longed for anything. After all, eternity was a long time to be alone.

"I just wish the Big Guy would hurry up. I have three more souls to fetch today." Felicity murmured testily, slouching in her gilded seat.

The Almighty so rarely called meetings that she knew it must be important, the heads of thousands of angels a sea of faces in front of her from her seat at the head of the crowd. She was by no means an archangel, but Felicity prided herself on the fact that her longevity as a soul collector had earned her a seat on the council benches.

A collective gasp of shock brought Felicity out of her thoughts, the throng of people parting to allow a dark figure to pass.

Felicity's breath caught in her throat when the man removed the hood that disguised his features, his face revealed in the pearly afternoon light.

The blonde had not seen Oliver Queen in centuries. He had spent the last 400 years on Earth, a carrier for wandering souls and those caught between the worlds. He very rarely returned to Heaven, preferring to reside on the terrestrial plain with the humans. Felicity could never understand why. Disease and death resided on Earth. Surely the celestial world was infinitely more pleasant.

His face was just as handsome as she remembered it to be, his jaw an anvil covered in stubble. He had been clean shaven when she had seen him last. She wondered if his new grooming habits were a result of his years with the mortals.

His eyes, cerulean blue and piercing, were trained on the faces of the council members, his mouth set in a brooding grimace. Felicity couldn't remember the last time she had seen him smile.

The forest green leather jacket he wore clung greedily to the bull work of his shoulders, the ropes of muscles in his thighs accented by the tight material. Felicity could only imagine the pure masculine power that the clothing hid, the ribbed surface of his abdomen and the strength of his biceps. Angels were not bred to be physically imposing; they had no need for violence or brutality. Oliver's strength had been a product of his intense fight for survival on the ground, and Felicity's smile slowly faded as she realized that this man had been through an ordeal more dangerous than anything she could ever have imagined before seeing the results herself.

His hair was cut short, no longer the wispy locks of a young adult with nothing to prove. She thought it suited him, the severity of the cut better complimenting the sharp edges of his face.

He cut through the crowd like a blade, his physical presence so demanding that it was hard to ignore him or get in his way. He took the attention of everyone in the room, whether intending to do so or not.

He was damaged. He was a masterpiece.

The whispers about him were always so cryptic. _He had lived on an abandoned island with the savages. He had fallen in love with a human girl. He had a body count._

 _No one had ever seen his wings._

Felicity had never believed any of the rumours but the last one, and that was only because she had never seen them herself. However, that didn't mean anything. It's not as if she had had any reason to ever see them. She and Oliver weren't exactly close.

He took his seat in the second highest row on the hierarchy as swiftly as he was capable of doing so, his rank demanding the respect that his mere presence hadn't already taken.

He was an archangel, a beloved archangel. As one of the oldest angels that Felicity had ever encountered, he was adored by the Almighty, and was the most likely candidate for a position among the Thrones, the elite group of angels that were designated the task of administering celestial justice and order to the masses.

Felicity wondered if a change in the hierarchy was the reason behind this sudden meeting of the nine ranks of angels. It was usually only one rank that met with the Almighty at a time, and seeing every angel in one place was very intimidating.

Felicity was simply a carrier, a messenger. She was fairly young by angel standards, and had yet to prove her worthiness to the Almighty. She aimed to be as beloved to her Creator as Oliver Queen was, and she hoped that whatever was coming would help her to better herself and her service to her lord.

With a crack of thunder, the crowd went silent. The Almighty had arrived.

Felicity had never seen his face- it was a cardinal sin to gaze upon the Creator's image- and Felicity instantly averted her eyes.

"The time has come. I had hoped that the circumstances within which we find ourselves would not come to pass, but it is too late for wishful thinking. The angel Lucifer has fallen. He has strayed from the righteous path of your Lord, and has demanded that each angel choose an allegiance; to the dark, or to the light. The balance between heaven and hell must remain equal. This will require a chosen few to leave their positions amongst my advisors and faithful servants. I will not ask you to stay, nor to leave. The choice must be made by each of you. Think carefully, because this decision cannot be undone. Once the darkness is chosen, one cannot again return to the kingdom of light. I will expect your decision in a fortnight, when Lucifer returns. It will be a grievous and melancholy day. That is all." The Almighty was gone as soon as he disappeared, leaving a startled uproar of angels in his wake.

Felicity's heart raced. How could she possibly make such a choice? After having lived in heaven for centuries, how did He expect her to change her allegiances, her loyalties? She swivelled in her seat to look behind her, searching for a particularly brooding face.

Oliver was gone.

Had he known? Had he any knowledge at all as to what was to come?

Rising on wobbly legs, Felicity made her way back to her chambers, dodging elbows and knees as she did so.

Once alone on the cobblestone path that led to her living quarters, she heard muffled groaning from behind a Cyprus tree. It startled her, the primal, pain-filled noise. She had never been used to suffering, since there was none in heaven. There had been no discourse at all, until that day.

Lingering in her place for a moment, Felicity crept closer, her steps as quiet as she could make them. When she rounded the bulk of the tree, she gasped.

The trunk of the tree had hidden him from her, the powerful breadth of shoulder and wing. The golden feathers gleamed in the sunlight at their tips, darkening to a deep hunter green where they met his spine. Felicity had never seen bicoloured angel wings before. She had heard that to have more than a single colour in one's wings was to be chosen by God, a sign of greatness.

However, something was wrong. The left wing hung at an odd angle, the wingspan stunted on one side. The wing was easily six feet long, much like the right wing, but it was currently folded in on itself at the joint of his shoulder. It must have been broken.

The wings, however, didn't shield the curve of his skull, the brush cut that shone golden in the light. She recognized the angle of his jaw, the dark shadow of stubble against the gilded surface of his skin.

"Oliver?" she asked hesitantly, her voice low and soothing. She reached a hesitant hand out, her fingers just brushing his shoulder before he rounded on her, eyes blazing and terrified.

"I won't hurt you. I just want to help you. Your wing is broken."

"I didn't need you to tell me that," he murmured, his voice a gruff growl.

Felicity reached gingerly for the injured appendage, blue eyes locked on blue. She gave him ample time to pull away, to deny her access to his person. He made no move to do so.

The feathers were smooth under her fingers, warm from being against his body. They thrummed with power under her touch, strong even in weakness.

She felt an itch between her shoulder blades as she moved her hands down the length of the wing, feeling for a break in the tissue. She wasn't a doctor, but she could at least make him more comfortable.

When Oliver let out a muted growl, Felicity realized that she had found the break, a fracture that must have been incredibly painful.

"I'm going to make a tourniquet to keep the wing extended. If kept in place, it should allow it to set properly. It won't afford you much privacy, but I fear that if I don't, you'll lose your ability to fly," Felicity murmured, snapping branches off the tree behind her and plucking the leaves off.

Bending, she tore strips of ivory linen off of the light cloak she wore to cover her bared shoulders, using them to bind the sticks to the wing more securely. She was reminded yet again of the nagging feeling down her spine, an itching that was just beneath her skin.

After tying the strips of linen, she tugged on the material gently. "Does that hurt?"

Oliver shivered, an animalistic movement that shook his whole body. The golden wings twitched, flapping shallowly in reaction. They must have been extremely sensitive, the nerves overstimulated by the break and the constant contact with her fingers. "I'll survive."

"Why don't you sit down for a moment, let your nerves settle? I can't imagine the hypersensitivity is comfortable," Felicity murmured, her hands smoothing small circles into his back.

Oliver gave her a pointed glance, shoulders stiff, before settling at the base of the tree. Clearly he wasn't used to being told what to do. He was going to have to deal with it.

Felicity slid into the space beside him, not giving her clean white tunic a second thought as she nestled into the grass.

"What happened to you?" she asked hesitantly, eyes trained on his face as the tree's leaves cast an emerald glow on his face.

He didn't answer at first, his face grievous. His mouth was stern, as if it were ever any other way, and she could see his jaw was set in a pensive line.

"Humans are a beautiful and terrifying species," was his only reply.

Felicity's brow furrowed, her mouth slanted in a skeptical purse. "Would you care to expand on that cryptic remark?"

A ghost of a smile curved the edges of his lips at her insistent tone. "Are you going to hock me until I do?"

Felicity smiled. "I'm a hocker."

Oliver's grin grew, and Felicity's breath caught in her throat. "I found myself on what I thought to be an abandoned island in the North China Sea. There were several individuals there who considered themselves very much… atheist, and they had seen my wings. They thought I was the Devil, and tortured me. They tried to rip out my wings, and ended up snapping one instead in hopes of grounding me permanently."

"Did you actually-"

Her question was cut off by the sound of sandals on stone, signalling the impending arrival of several angels that were not privy to their conversation.

Oliver's eyes widened with panic, his hands immediately reaching back to his extended wings. Felicity realized the danger at the exact moment he did, knowing that if Oliver didn't find cover immediately, several strangers were going to see the only part of him that he has managed to keep secret.

Oliver struggled to stand, his wings rasping painfully against the tree bark. He groaned and sank back down to the ground. "I can't move."

Her body moving before she had even a moment to think her actions through, quick with instinctual protectiveness, Felicity threw herself onto his lap, attempting to shield him with her small form.

Fire burned down her back as her tunic shred, her wings unfolding to embrace Oliver before she could blink, shielding him from prying eyes. Her wings weren't as long as his, nor nearly as wide, but she tried to envelope as much of his as she could. She could just camouflage the bulk of his wings, the remaining golden inches appearing as if they were a reflection of the sunlight on hers.

To an outsider, they appeared to be in an intimate embrace, closely entwined and skin melding together. Her hands gripped his shoulders for purchase, her eyes locked on his in stunned surprise.

Felicity's wings were livewires where they brushed against his, her feathers tingling with sensation. It was unlike anything she had ever felt, pleasure concentrated to a point where it was hardly bearable. She arched her back to extend them further, the rose gold hue of them hopefully distracting whomever might be looking their way. Her abdomen pressed against Oliver's with every breath, and she found it hard to concentrate. His hand spanned the small of back, hot and calloused, pressing her closer even as his uninjured wing flexed to meet hers.

 _Is this what it feels like with everyone?_ Felicity wondered, the pleasant sensation spreading to the vertebrae of her spine. Her heart raced, exhilaration from the contact and fear at being discovered combining to deliver a rush of oxytocin.

Oliver held his breath as the pair of angels past, his eyes locked on hers as their footsteps faded away. His eyes were smouldering, swirling depths of blue that whirled with secrets, curiosity. Did he feel as electrified as she did?

Realizing that she was lingering in his lap, Felicity slid her leg back over his hips and flopped onto her side, her wings easing reluctantly away from Oliver's. They ached pleasantly as they sheathed themselves beneath her skin once again.

Felicity looked through the screen of her hair at Oliver, embarrassed. She hadn't meant to jump all over him like that, wouldn't have dreamed of it in any other circumstance, but he was vulnerable, and she didn't want anyone to see any part of him that he hadn't allowed them to.

"I'm sorry," Felicity whispered, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I just didn't think you wanted anyone to see you… like that. I know you have issues with trusting people. Your wings are private. They should stay that way."

Oliver brushed the hair away from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. His eyes, when Felicity drew together enough courage to meet them, were soft.

"You sacrificed your privacy, your dignity, to save mine. I can't thank you enough for that," he whispered, his voice worshipful.

Felicity shrugged, feeling oddly as if her skin had been flayed and she were bare before him. "They clearly mean more to you than they do to me. It was nothing."

Oliver's eyes narrowed suspiciously, tilted her chin up with his index finger. "Felicity, whatever passed between us just now? It wasn't nothing. I don't understand it, but I can't deny that it happened. Neither should you."

Felicity shivered at the way he said her name, four syllables somehow made into a caress. She remembered the electric connection of her wings against his, wondered if it would be like to be entwined fully with him, wings pressed length to length. "I'm not denying it, Oliver. I just don't know what it means. I never meant to show you my wings. I just heard those angels coming and panicked. There wasn't an ulterior motive; I just wanted to make sure that you were safe. The coast is clear, so I think that you can make it back to your rooms without being seen."

Felicity stood, brushing the grass off of her tunic before reaching a hand out to Oliver to help him stand. He took it and rose gingerly, leaning forward to make sure that his wings didn't touch anything. They flapped in her direction once, twice, before settling behind his back once again. Felicity tried not to look too much into it, nor to the yearning response that her own wings gave her as the golden appendages did so.

"Leave the splint on the wing for a day or so. Keep out of sight in the meantime. You should be fine," Felicity murmured before scurrying away, pretending not to notice the troubled expression on Oliver's face as she did.

For the next few days, Felicity forced herself to sit down and really consider what happened.

Snippets of what her mother had told her raced through her mind, words of _soulmates_ and _true love_ flooding her already frazzled system.

Was Oliver her soulmate? Surely she would have noticed when she had seen him before if he were. Was this just infatuation mixed with panic over the upcoming schism between heaven and hell?

However, as she recalled the vibrant exultation she experienced when her wings had met his, she couldn't deny that there was certainly something to be said about the theory.

She wasn't in love with him. That was for sure. Infatuated, maybe. Attracted to, definitely. In love with? No. She barely knew him, other than what the gossips said.

Did that mean she wasn't open to the idea? Of course not. He was honest, intelligent, and kind. Felicity also couldn't neglect to mention that he was the most beautiful angel she had ever seen; man, woman, or otherwise. To fall in love with Oliver Queen, the famed archangel, was certainly not the worst fate that could befall her.

That being said, when he appeared in her chambers two days later without warning, she was not at all surprised. She could guess that their encounter had eaten away at him just as it had eaten away at her.

She hadn't needed any warnings to know that he was there. Her wings twitched invitingly beneath her skin, and had she let them, they would have breached her skin to greet him.

He was wearing his standard angel garb now, white linen robes with a shimmering golden cloak that signified his rank as an archangel. The pale clothing brought attention to his sun burnished skin, so unnatural to those who had never spent more than a week on Earth at a time. The cloak brought out the gold flecks in his blue eyes, lapis lazuli when shaded by his long lashes. His feet were bare. Felicity thought it was endearing.

"I think we should talk about what happened," he said, his voice deeper than she was accustomed to as he stood across the room from her.

His mouth was set in a deep grimace, his facial hair accenting the fullness of his lips and the angular set of his jaw. Felicity had the insane urge to nip that pouting lower lip, draw it between her teeth and tug until he growled her name.

"What is there to talk about? You don't owe me anything, Oliver," she insisted, crossing her legs as she sat on her ivory chaise lounge, the slit in her dress revealing her pale leg to the thigh. She watched as Oliver tracked the motion, his gaze unrelenting, and smirked inwardly.

Oliver's body was lithe as he moved closer, the muscles in his abdomen tightening and flexing with each movement. He was as sinuous as a panther, lethal and beautiful. She wanted him bare, panting, her lips sucking on the tight skin of his abdomen while he arched beneath her.

She _wanted_.

"Maybe I don't. I do, however, owe myself the effort of finding out if what happened between us means anything beyond a simple fluke in the celestial pairing system. I've been alone for a very long time, and purposely so. I'm not very good at companionship."

Felicity's brows furrowed as she rose to meet him across the room, the height difference between them startling. She could fit neatly under his chin, her wings urging her to take that final step towards him to make contact. She didn't.

"Then why seek it out with me? Surely there are better angels, angels who are more worthy of the revered Oliver Queen's time than a lowly carrier angel such as myself?" Felicity drawled, crossing her arms over her chest. It was a protective measure, in retaliation to the fear that he was stepping into territory that she wasn't quite ready to enter.

For the first time in her long life, Felicity Smoak heard Oliver Queen laugh. It was a rough sound, raw, almost a bark; he clearly didn't make that particular sound often. It was, despite the harshness of the tone, the most intriguing thing she had ever heard.

The accompanying smile lit up his face, a face that was momentarily free of the pain that had contorted it and morphed its expressions. It made him look centuries younger, the severity of his brooding demeanor gone for a brief moment.

It dawned on Felicity that she couldn't imagine anything more precious than a smiling Oliver Queen. She could suddenly see why angels fell to their knees before him, why the Almighty treasured him so. He was a vision, and if she had ever had a lack of faith, she recovered it now. She could see why he was considered the best of all the angels, the brightest among a constellation of stars. With only a single smile, Felicity could see the light within him, and whatever darkness possessed him, it shone as brightly as the sun.

God, she was in so much trouble.

"When I was on the island, I dreamt of this place. I longed for it. When they broke my wing, I wondered how painful it could actually be to fly here, how much pain I would put myself through to get here. I never asked myself why I needed to go back then, when I had lived on Earth for centuries without the slightest inclination to return. I guess my subconscious suddenly realized that I couldn't be alone forever, and that I didn't want to be. When I saw your face as you came around that stupid Cyprus tree, it all become incredibly clear. Felicity, you're the first person whom I've been able to see as a person in a very long time. When you approached me, I knew that you weren't a threat, and that I could be close to you without being harmed. I haven't felt that way in centuries. It feels…good." His fingers twitched against his thigh, a sign of his restlessness and his unease about sharing his feelings.

Felicity drew her lip between her teeth in a nervous gesture, her blue eyes locked on his. She was taken aback by his words, having never imagined that she would have taken such a hold on someone so important, so strong and willful and brave.

"I would never hurt you," Felicity whispered, reluctantly placing a pale hand on his shoulder. It tightened under her grip, that same electrical current passing between them again, giving her goosebumps in the warm air. He was so strong, so solid beneath her fingers. She wanted that strength wrapped around her, keeping her protected and safe.

"I know. I realize that we don't know much about each other, but I do know that I wouldn't be able to live with myself if we didn't see where this goes."

Felicity's head tilted to the side in curiosity, raising an eyebrow in challenge. "How do you suppose we do that? Lucifer returns tomorrow. We're supposed to spend this last day in independent prayer and quiet contemplation."

Oliver shook his head, cast his eyes heavenward, before taking the final stride that closed the gap separating their bodies. Taking her face between his palms, Oliver lifted her mouth to his, sealing her gasp between their lips.

Felicity was overwhelmed with sensation, the soft tug on her bottom lip causing her mouth to fall open just enough for him to fill the gap. The smooth slide of his mouth, his tongue against hers was a surprise; no other man had been so forward with her during a first kiss. She loved it, eagerly gripping his shoulders in an attempt to bring him closer.

He kissed her reverently, as if it were the first and last kiss he would ever have. It was benediction, a prayer murmured and answered.

It was over as quickly as it began, leaving Felicity panting and clinging to his shoulders.

"Independent prayer and quiet contemplation, you said?" Oliver murmured, his hands sliding back into her hair.

Felicity stood on her tiptoes, her fingers curling around the back of his neck. "Who needs it, anyway?"

They came together again, limbs tangling and hot breaths mingling between their lips. His hands moved from her hair to her waist, her hips, coming back up her spine in a languid stroke that made her purr.

Oliver's fingers set her skin afire with anticipation, and she reached hastily for the ties of his robes. Her eager fingers freed his body from the confines of fabric that held him.

He was magnificent, every inch of him toned and strong. The bull work of his shoulders, the muscular plain of his chest, the long slopes of his thighs; Felicity was in awe of him.

She could see dozens of scars crossing his flesh, making the skin uneven and rough in multiple places. She didn't think they marred his perfection, only enhanced the sense of unwavering strength that had drawn her to him in the first place. He was a survivor, and she wanted to know every crucible he had faced, every struggle he had overcome. She wanted an eternity of figuring out who he was, of discovering his secrets so that she may know him as well as he knew himself. She wanted to read him like a map, and linger over every last detour.

Felicity took a deep breath, ready to put her last card on the table. She took his hands in hers; the fingers dwarfed hers, made them look like ivory doll hands in comparison to the long-fingered, wide-backed perfection of his. "My mother told me that you knew who your soulmate was if your wings could identify them the moment they walked into the room, if they instantly moved to connect with theirs because your souls were so in sync that to be without them was to be without a part of yourself. Now, I don't know about all of that, but I do know that I've never felt the need to show anyone else my wings, voluntarily or otherwise, before. My wings have never reacted so strongly to anything as they have to being around you. You said that you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you didn't see where whatever this is between us goes, so this is me telling you that I'm ready to try. If you really are my…soulmate… I don't want to pass up a single moment of being with you. I know that we don't really know each other that well right now, and that this is insane, but you can't tell me that you've ever felt this way with someone else, because I know that you would be lying. I've never felt this way before, and I don't think that whatever is happening between us, or that it's happening now after so many centuries, is a coincidence. I think we were meant to be here, to get us through whatever's happening tomorrow."

Felicity's wings were straining against her skin, an urgent heartbeat that she could ignore no longer. She untied her tunic in a rapid motion, letting it fall to the floor before they could shred yet another outfit that she owned.

In an eruption of rose gold feathers her wings were exposed, gleaming in their full glory for Oliver's eyes. Felicity knew of a certainty that he would be the only one to see them, to see her like that. A warm feeling settled in the pit of her stomach at the thought, and she couldn't deny that she was proud to be inexplicably connected to the beautiful, complicated man in front of her. Hands at her sides and nerves churning in her belly, Felicity felt akin to having her soul on display for him.

His eyes were dark with desire, smouldering depths of blue, but a light gleamed in them that told her that he recognized the significance of her gesture. In a smooth motion, Oliver bowed his head in rapture, his eyes closing so that his eyelashes cast shadows on his jagged cheekbones.

"Felicity," he whispered, a lament on his tongue. He spoke her name as if she could redeem him, as if the syllables could purge him of his sins and cleanse his soul.

She wanted him looking at her, his body against hers. She ran a hand over the curve of his head, gingerly and with the intent of making him raise his eyes to hers once again.

"So, will you take a chance on me, even after I've just spouted a lot of inane babble about soulmates and fate to you? Will you take a chance on us?" Her voice was a nervous murmur as she interrupted him, and a tremor shook her hands as she held away them from her body.

Oliver was silent for a moment, his eyes searching endlessly for something in the depths of her own, before his wings, twin masterpieces of shimmering gold and jade, unfurled behind him. The damaged appendage had healed quickly, and it beat gloriously at his side, eagerly trying to reach hers. His wingspan was massive, the length of them fitting to the size of the man who owned them.

The wings wrapped around her in a sweeping motion, drawing her into his chest and keeping her against his heart. It was beating frantically under her palms, and she wanted to tell that him that he needn't be nervous; he had nothing to fear from her. Her wings enfolded him in their delicate lengths, wrapping neatly around his waist to keep him close to her. The feathers were humming pleasantly where they overlapped his, the feeling no longer that of overwhelming pleasure, but a comforting completeness.

He bent to kiss her with impassioned abandon, his mouth turning her knees to water and her spine to jelly. His palm curved over her hip, his fingers hooking behind her knee so that he could lift her into his arms while the other stroked her hair. Her arms wrapped around his neck, more to keep him close than to keep her balance as he walked backwards towards the canopy bed in the corner of the room.

When his thighs hit the mattress, he sat, effectively keeping her on his lap while maintaining contact with their mouths. Felicity urged him to lay back, untangling her wings from behind his back with a pleasurable shiver. They folded back into her skin after a moment, briefly making her feel as if she were an avenging angel hovering over her quarry.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked breathlessly, running her fingers through her tangled hair.

In lieu of an answer, Oliver wrapped his hands around her thighs and flipped them over, his body between her legs and her knees around his hips. His wings blocked the sunlight from her face, highlighting the feathers in golden relief, before disappearing.

"Does this answer your question?" he asked, his voice a deep growl, and Felicity nodded enthusiastically in response.

His mouth covered hers, and within moments she became too preoccupied to speak any longer.

"Couldn't you just stay a little while longer? The schism won't happen until dusk. We could go down there together?" Felicity coaxed him as she lounged in bed, her bare leg peeking out from beneath the frosty white linens.

"You know that wouldn't be seemly. We're supposed to appear as if we were contemplating our eternal allegiances all day, not rolling around in bed committing sin," Oliver murmured, slipping his robes back around his shoulders. The material clung to the toned muscles, highlighting the sleek lines of his body. Felicity nearly purred with satisfaction.

"Would you rather have been alone all day?" Felicity asked coyly, pulling the sheet up to her chin in a measured tug.

Oliver crossed the room, cupped her face in his hand. His palm was calloused and rough, igniting the nerve endings beneath her smooth skin as it brushed her cheek. She nuzzled into it, breathing in the woodsy scent at his wrist, the warmth of him. He kissed her in a smooth motion of lip and tongue before pulling away, leaving her wanting and warm. "No."

"Will you come back to me? Later, I mean. After the schism." Her voice was bordering on pleading, clinging to the fingers in her grip, but she desperately wanted him to stay. She had just found him, after all.

"We'll find each other. I promise." With a final brush of his mouth against hers, he was gone.

Felicity once again found herself in a huddle of angels, the air abuzz with murmured voices and hushed anticipation.

Felicity knew what would happen as the evening progressed. The Almighty would call each angel forward from the lowest ranks to the highest, and each angel would choose a side. After that, Lucifer would take those whom had sided with him away to the underworld, the only place where Felicity could never fathom going.

She looked eagerly amongst the crowd for Oliver, her wings twitching eagerly at the thought of him, wanting to be close in a moment of such turmoil. After their afternoon together, she felt oddly at peace with herself, as if she had found a portion of herself that she had never realized was missing. She couldn't see him, though her wings verified his presence quite thoroughly.

It was only after a few minutes of searching that a sudden quiet came over the angels, a forced silence that could only mean that the Fall was beginning.

Without warning, names were called and fates were sealed, and Felicity thanked her lucky stars that her name wasn't called first. She heard the names of her friends, her old lovers- Felicity hated that word- and wondered how such a choice was expected of them when the consequences were to be doled out over the course of eternity.

Sara's name was called, and she joined Nyssa on the side of the Almighty, their hands entwining as soon as she stepped up to the podium. Felicity was eager to be by Oliver's side, their hands clasped together in solidarity after their alliances were made. She wanted a chance to know him, and she couldn't wait for an eternity of doing so.

When her name was called, Felicity moved on shaking legs to stand beside Sara. For her, there had never been a choice to make. She couldn't imagine being faithful to any other deity, couldn't see herself serving a traitor after hundreds of years of duty.

After minutes of dreadful anticipation, Oliver was called to take a stance. Felicity could feel her wings burning as he approached, his lithe body cutting through the crowd like a warm knife through butter. His head was down, his stance determined as he made his way out of the throng of people.

Felicity pushed past the crowd that obstructed her view of him, intending to greet him as he breached the platform's boundaries. Yet the moment never came.

There was a buzz amongst the crowd as he stood in the middle of the altar.

She frowned in confusion as Oliver seemed to waver between one side and the other, as if he were unsure where his loyalties lay.

"Oliver! What are you doing?" Felicity called out, alarmed, reaching a hand out to grab his and missing his grasp by mere inches.

Oliver met her gaze instantly, and the light behind his eyes made lead form in the pit of her stomach. _No. He couldn't possibly…_

Her eyes widened in panic, trying to force her way to his side, but he held a hand up to stop her.

"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes impossibly sad. "I never wanted to hurt you, but there has to be balance."

"What do you mean? You can stay here, with me. Someone else will go. Just stay. Please." Felicity's voice was wobbly with unshed tears, her pulse racing with fear.

Oliver shook his head, his eyes sparkling with unspoken emotion. "This is the only way that everyone can keep their happiness. I won't take that away from someone else just so that I may be happy."

The blonde wiped away the tears that had begun to fall down her cheeks, intent on seeing him clearly if that was the last time she would ever lay eyes on her soulmate.

"Don't do this, Oliver. Please. I'll never see you again. We'll never…" Her voice wavered, and her insides clenched with the sobs that urgently wanted release. Her wings quivered with their desire to be around him, to be against his. Felicity feared that their desire would never again be quenched.

Oliver smiled, a melancholy lift of his lip that tore her to shreds. "Remember what I promised you? Hold onto that."

He joined the crowd on the podium across from hers without another backward glance, and he was soon lost amongst the bodies of the other angels.

Felicity finally let the shudders rack through her as the departing angels thrust themselves into the sky, their wings a kaleidoscope of colours that would be lost to her forever. She tried not to see the flash of hunter green and gold that drew her attention automatically.

Her wings ached with longing as their mates flew out of sight, and Felicity wrapped her arms around herself in a weak attempt at holding herself together.

 _We'll find each other_. That was what he had promised. _Hold onto that._

Felicity clutched the words to her heart as if they were her lifeline, and she could only hope that he was right.


End file.
